Assassin's Last Billionaire

Lost Controls

Lucian-

Danny. Every time I see her, I feel my pulse shift. She walks like she’s counting every step, like she doesn’t trust the ground beneath her. Clipboard tucked to her chest. Tight black leggings. Eyes sharp as glass but lips too soft for a woman trying to act unbothered. Like she hadn’t just stared into my soul from a VIP balcony. “Danny,” I said, low. “Crashin’ the men’s locker room now?”

“Your ego can relax. You’re wrapped in a towel. I’ve seen worse,” she said, handing me the chart like it was a grenade. “Tomorrow’s revised nutrition schedule. You ran harder than expected in the second half. Blood sugar dropped faster than projected.” I took the paper, eyes still locked on her. “You were watching me?”

She blinked slowly. f**k… her green beeds are God. And lilies... smell climging to her. “It’s my job to watch you. I adjust your performance data, not your fan club metrics.” She turned slightly, picked up a cup. “Your electrolytes,” she said coolly, holding out a smoothie without emotion. “Your levels drop faster than expected. Again.” Again…. God, the way she says that, like she knows me. Like she’s already dissected me, judged me, and filed me away as a problem to manage. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the bottle, around her fingers for a second too long. Her skin warm. Her breath caught. Subtle. Barely audible. But it was there. “Thanks, Doc,” I muttered, watching her face. “You always take such good care of me.” Her jaw tensed. She tried to pull her hand back, but I didn’t let go immediately. I wanted to see her crack. Just a little. I want to feel her skin a little more. Her eyes finally met mine. Cool. Cautious. But underneath that, something simmered. “You’re not special,” she said flatly, pulling her fingers away. “I’m assigned to monitor everyone.” My lips curved into a slow smirk. “Yet here you are. Always around when I’m sweating. That day on the ground and now…” She blinked. Her lashes lowering like a slow drag across skin, and somehow f*****g made me hard. She wanted to say something but then turned to leave. No comeback. No flare of irritation. Just cold, practiced retreat. Like she’d trained for this. And f**k, it made my blood boil in the best way. I watched her hips as she walked out, her form disappearing around the corner like a punishment I couldn’t touch.

The door clicks shut behind me. I didn’t even think to just lock it. My hands were f*****g shaking. I barely made it to the washroom before the door slammed shut behind me. Her name was still on my tongue, and my body refused to forget her.

I lean against the sink, staring into the mirror like it owes me an answer. My chest is still slick from the shower, muscles twitching with leftover adrenaline. But it’s not the game that has me like this. It’s her. Danny. f*****g Danny. That tight ponytail. That little clipboard. That sharp, uninterested voice. She looked me in the eye today, just for a second and something inside me f*****g snapped. She thinks she can walk in and act like she’s immune. Like my body doesn’t affect her. Like I’m just another arrogant athlete she’s being paid to babysit. Bullshit. I felt the tension in her wrist when she handed me that drink. I saw the flicker in her gaze when I leaned too close. She's fighting it and I f*****g love that. Ohh.. the lilies!

I rip the towel off and drop it to the floor. My c**k is already throbbing, flushed and heavy, dripping like it knows her name. “f*****g hell,” I whisper, grabbing my hard c**k, pumping once, hard. My hips jerk forward. She’d be on her knees right now if I told her to. I can see it. That icy look of hers breaking apart while she chokes on me, hands gripping my thighs, gagging and still trying to take more. I’d grab her by the hair and f**k her mouth until she cried. I stroke faster. My hand’s slick now. Spit, precum, I don’t even know. I don’t care. I need it rough. I need it, violent.

She’d fight me at first. I know her type. All stiff posture and self-control. But once I’ve got her bent over this sink, panties shoved aside, soaking wet and breathless? She’d beg for it. Beg for me. “Yeah,” I mutter, breath catching, “take it, baby. Take every f*****g inch.” I can see her, eyes emerald green eyes, moaning my name while I ruin her from behind. She’d claw at the counter, hips shaking, whispering how she hates me for making her come so hard. “Say it,” I growl under my breath. “Say my name.” I want her screaming my name. Lucian. Lucian. Lucian, “ Ughhh….” please. “f*****g hell…..Danny…..” I lose it. My thighs lock, my stomach clenches, and I come with a ragged, desperate groan. Hot and messy, across my abs, the counter, the f*****g floor. It keeps pulsing out of me, more than it should, like she pulled it out with her f*****g presence.

I lean forward, panting, one hand braced against the sink. My vision’s foggy. My chest still tight. It’s not enough. I wipe myself off with the towel, jaw clenched so hard it hurts. My c**k’s still half-hard. Still twitching like it didn’t get what it needed. She’s under my skin. She doesn’t belong here. And I want her so f*****g bad, it’s unhinged. But I swear— Next time she looks at me like I’m nothing? I’ll make sure she remembers exactly who the f**k I am.

River-

My steps were already carrying me down the corridor—cool, efficient, detached. But something about the way he looked at me lingered like static in my blood. You’re not special, I had said. And I meant it. He wasn’t supposed to be. But I’d forgotten to tell him about the protein schedule adjustment alongwith nutrition schedule. A minor oversight. Still—details mattered. I've talked to all other players before going. This job's not that easy as I thought. Handling every person personally. And that Lucian, I was watching him… “Yes boy… I watch you daily… I've been watching you since months” I whispered while turning back to locker room. I walked back, slow and silent. Taking the documents, I pushed open the locker room door without knocking. “Mr. Vale—” My breath caught mid-sentence. Lucian was at the sink, towel discarded at his feet, body carved in sweat slick muscle. His hand gripped his c**k—hard, flushed, desperate. His head was tilted back, throat arched, lips parted around a moan. The dim lighting sculpted him like marble, broad shoulders slick with sweat, every ridge of his back flexing. His ass, firm, tight, sinfully perfect, tensed with every motion. His thighs were strong, cut deep with definition. He grunted softly, his head tilting back, exposing the arch of his neck. “f*****g hell… Danny…” He's said what!